


The Dichotomy of an Oblivious Profiler

by aesthetic_warning



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Attempt at Humor, Established Relationship, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Miscommunication, POV Alternating, POV Outsider, Secret Relationship, Timeline What Timeline, but not actually, i say i watched the show but i also couldnt tell you who the hell matt is, no beta we die like half the goddamn unsubs, overuse of wikepedia, the BAU being idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:28:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27926017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aesthetic_warning/pseuds/aesthetic_warning
Summary: “This is different than a macchiato because macchiatos typically are a shot of espresso with a minimal amount of milk, meaning the flavor of a macchiato is much more coffee-centered than, say, a cappuccino, which has equal parts espresso, steamed milk, and milk foam,”Alvez looked absolutely entranced.Rossi sighed and laid down in the backseat, considering taking a nap.or,5 times spencer and luke showed incredible amounts of PDA and assumed everyone knew they were dating but everyone went “that’s just guys being dudes” and 1 time everyone realized luke and reid were quite literally in love
Relationships: Luke Alvez/Spencer Reid
Comments: 24
Kudos: 336





	The Dichotomy of an Oblivious Profiler

**Author's Note:**

> i've got an apush project i could be doing but *nooo* the ralvez tag just HAD to be practically barren. what was i supposed to do? not contribute? the civil war already happened, the essay can wait

Luke and Spencer know that their team knows about their relationship and are supportive and happy about it, and that the team understands that despite the far more personal aspect to their interactions, they’re still able to be completely professional at work and know when there are lines not to be crossed when working cases. 

Luke and Spencer would be wrong. 

Not about the acceptance and support to them, of course. If the team knew they were dating, there would be nothing but happiness shown their way. The key word being _if_. The Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI, a collection of the best profilers the country has to offer, is entirely unaware of the fully developed relationship between two of their finest agents. 

**i.**

Matt looked over to Reid’s desk, the whispering coming from that direction quiet enough that he couldn’t hear what was being said, but loud enough that he couldn’t focus on his paperwork. He sat there for a moment, a deeply unimpressed look flashing across his face before he schooled it into a more neutral look. 

He considered loudly teasing the guy, the friendly jab undoubtedly enough to make him fluster and return quietly back to his work so the rest of them could hurry up and not have to worry about having to finish their paperwork by the time Monday rolled around. Matt was about to execute his master plan until his eyes finally registered what was going on at Reid’s workstation, and he leaned back in his chair, intent on just taking in the scene for a moment. 

Alvez was sitting on Reid’s desk, talking quietly with him, occasionally letting out a small chuckle about whatever it was the kid said. Now, Matt had been at the BAU for a few years at that point, and was very familiar with the different quirks each of his teammates had. JJ couldn’t stand the sight or sound of Prentiss picking the plaque from her teeth in the bathroom of the jet before they landed on site of a case. Lewis claimed having coffee before 8 gave her gas, so whenever they were called in before then, she was always the grumpiest of the group. Reid didn’t allow anyone to sit on his desk, Morgan apparently having been the exception, Reid letting him sit there when he was in a good mood, so Matt didn’t expect anyone to be granted permission to sit there, _especially_ not now that the man had left. Matt shifted forward, paperwork entirely forgotten as he studied the scene in front of him. 

They were both hunched towards each other, their body language incredibly comfortable and familiar, as if they’d forgotten they were surrounded by their colleagues. Matt considered the possibility that Alvez had inserted himself into Reid’s space unwantedly, but dismissed the theory as soon as he noticed the relaxed smile plaguing Reid’s lips. That, and the hand he placed over Alvez’s- clearly a sign of comfort and brotherly love. Perhaps a mannerism the kid picked up from Morgan; Matt wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. 

He sighed and leaned back in his seat, glad the dude was finding friendship in his newer teammates, the gaping hole left by Morgan obviously being filled in part by Alvez and his friendly smiles and pictures of his dog. He turned back to his paperwork, his shoulders slumping at the sight of the work needing to be done. 

**ii.**

Rossi knew he was unlucky. Time and time again he’s drawn the short straw, or lost a bet with his wife leaving him in charge of deep cleaning the kitchen. This car ride was no different. He arrived just moments before Alvez shouted “shotgun”, leaving him to rot in the backseat. 

Reid had a very specific style of driving that Rossi could only describe as “grandma, if grandma was an adrenaline junkie”. He thought of this description as Reid once again stopped at a stop sign, waited for his turn patiently, and then gunned it, practically drifting to make the sharp right turn and stay in his lane. From the outside, one would see their federal car and assume they were almost speeding ( _“_ Almost _speeding, Rossi, I’m actually going exactly 35 right now which is the precise speed limit in this area-“_ ) because they were in a rush to get to an unsub’s house to save a victim, or something equally as pressing. 

In actuality, they were on their way to interview a potential witness, but a bit pressed for time because Alvez and Reid both decided now was the best time to test the validity of the Dunkin’ Donuts Sugarplum Macchiato. The consensus was them both realizing they had no memory of the flavor of a plum without the coffee in the way. Rossi did not comment on them sharing a straw, figuring they just forgot to ask for a second one. 

Rossi was about to ask if either of them had any idea where they were going, when Reid took another sudden right and he was whipped into the left side door. “Hey, Reid, crazy idea- what if I drove?”

Alvez leveled him with a suspicious squint of his eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I currently feel like the insides of a package being delivered by UPS and would like to get back home without my insides being melted,”

From the driver’s seat Reid scoffed, safely merging onto the highway at the speed a 15 year old in Driver’s Ed would. “We’re not going anywhere near the speed required to liquify your organs, Rossi. In fact, there are very few things that could actually result in that,” he said, stopping for a moment to check that he can change lanes without collision. 

“I heard that having sex with a dolphin can do that. Is that true?” Alvez asked, leaning his head on his hand, his elbow resting on the center console, all his body language displaying how interested he was in whatever Reid had to say. 

Rossi groaned quietly, hating the direction the conversation had been steered. 

“That’s just a myth, probably originating because a dolphin’s ejaculation can reach up to 14 feet,” Reid explained, his face and tone completely neutral despite the content of his words. 

“How about we go back to talking about lattes, huh? I liked that conversation a little bit more than this one,”

“Actually earlier we were talking about macchiatos, an entirely different drink. Lattes, originally called a café latte, directly translates to ‘coffee milk’, as they’re typically made when you have a shot of espresso and add quite a bit of steamed milk and other sweeteners,” he said, somehow managing to lecture them about the intricacies coffee making while also navigating through the semi-busy streets of Idaho Suburbia. “This is different than a macchiato because macchiatos typically are a shot of espresso with a minimal amount of milk, meaning the flavor of a macchiato is much more coffee-centered than, say, a cappuccino, which has equal parts espresso, steamed milk, and milk foam,”

Alvez looked absolutely entranced.

Rossi sighed and laid down in the backseat, considering taking a nap. 

“How do you make an americano then, cariño? Or a mocha- is that just a latte with chocolate in it too?”

‘ _It’s nice the kid found a friend just as nerdy as he is,’_ He thought to himself just as he drifted off. 

**iii.**

There was a serial killer that would mail his victims a note telling them why he was going to murder them, reminiscent of the man that saw himself as one of the Fates in Greek Mythology who would poison his victims after telling them they were going to die. The difference being this new serial killer they were after practically turned himself in. 

Apparently, after hours of interviews and questioning to get a confession out of him, the man- Richard Ginsby- had left an envelope addressed to his next victim laying on his desk. His mom, whose house he lived in, had come in to clean and noticed the letter, wrote down the return address, stamped it, and sent it off. Richard, whose psychotic break had left his mind in shambles, had forgotten about it until a few days later when Simmons and the local police had knocked on the door. 

Tara looked down at the confession, her mind wandering back to her plans for the week. She had rescheduled a brunch with her mother when she found out about their case, assuming it would take at least 3 days, not the 13 hours it took for them to land in Arkansas until the letter to Ginsby’s latest potential victim arrived. It was currently 8:45 and the jet hadn’t even gone through the refueling and preparation necessary for them to leave. She resigned herself to a night sleeping on the jet until it was ready for takeoff, or if they _really_ felt like rewarding themselves, buying themselves hotel rooms with their own money. The case, having lasted less than a day, no longer warranted FBI budget being spent on housing for them, so they all scrambled a bit to figure out where to sleep. 

Prentiss walked in suddenly, a pleased smile on her face. “The local police are by far the nicest we’ve ever experienced- they bought us all a night at a hotel in town- apparently more than a few spouses work there and managed to cop us a few rooms. We won’t even have to double up!” She said, an amused expression crossing her face at the sound of the relieved sighs of her team. 

“The amount of people working at the hotel actually makes sense, when you consider the size of the town compared to the fame of the hotel company on a national scale- it probably provides a lot of jobs for people here,” Reid explained, the unvoiced question on everyone’s minds. 

They all looked at him, varying levels of disinterest written clearly across their faces. Tara knows he didn’t take any of it to heart- he knew they were all tired and still jet lagged and just needed a nice night at a hotel without a serial killer to worry about. 

They split up into their cars, the line of black SUVs driving through the small town probably alarming to the public that didn’t yet know their serial killer had been caught. It wasn’t long before they arrived at the hotel, the location finally explaining what such a large company was doing in what you’d find as the definition in the dictionary if you looked up “small town”. They all got out of their cars and looked over at the line of trees spanning for miles, and remembered the national park was one of Arkansas’s most famous landmarks. 

The team went their separate ways, some planning on getting hammered with their night off, others planning to go right to bed and finally sleep off the deep purple eyebags they have. Tara didn’t know what she wanted to do until she looked over in the hotel lobby and noticed a sign pointing her in the direction of the pool. She slipped into a sports bra and a pair of athletic shorts, the closest thing she had in her go-bag that could be considered a bathing suit, and made her way inside, the steam and smell of chlorine surprisingly relaxing to her. 

“Tara! Hey! Come on in, the water’s fine!” Alvez said, waving her towards him where he was sitting in the hot tub. Next to him sat Reid, an unreadable expression on his face. 

“The water is _not_ fine, it’s a cesspool for bacteria- this water could potentially house the Legionella bacteria and give us all Legionnaires’ Disease. It’s transferred through the skin, eyes, or nose and look at us, almost entirely uncovered, just _asking_ to get a new strain of pneumonia named after us,”

Alvez- Luke, he insists, when not on cases- leveled Spencer with an entirely serious and understanding look. “Do you want us to leave? Say the word and we’ll get drunk in your room instead,” Spencer just sighed and leaned in closer to Luke, already practically in his lap. 

“Hotels are gross,” 

“Yeah,”

Tara watched as they continued to talk quietly, sitting down at the edge of the tub and dipping her feet in. She was glad they were both close, knowing how difficult their job is and how important it is to have a support system. After a few minutes they both got up and toweled off, waving to her as she walked towards the main pool, smiling at the knowledge that her friends were close friends too. 

**iv.**

Penelope Garcia was running through the halls, excited to see JJ again after she had been gone for two and a half weeks because her whole family got lice and were hit with the flu at the same time. She smiled brightly as she sped past the elevators, stopping when she saw Spencer and Luke stepping out of one, both of them looking as gorgeous as usual. 

“Hey, Penelope! What’s up?” Spencer asked, walking up next to her with Luke as they all made their way towards the BAU bullpen. She smiled. 

“JJ’s back!” she told them, her wide grin being matched by the two men. They all hurried inside to see their friend. 

After everyone was hugged and JJ described her busy homelife, they all dutifully got to work, paperwork never ending for any of them. They worked through the day, lunch calm and delightfully uneventful as Penelope worked on her own projects, until finally the day ended, entirely case-free. They all said their goodbyes, walking towards their cars. She watched as Luke and Spencer both got into the same car, thinking about how many times now she’s seen them do that. 

She first noticed it about a month ago, but there was no telling how long they had been carpooling before she realized. At first she just found it an odd coincidence that the two of them always arrived at the same time every day, but then she remembered that she’s not a profiler, and even if she was, there was be no reason to search for deeper meaning in what obviously had a mundane answer, like Spencer’s car might be in the shop, or Luke realized how close they lived and decided to save gas and just drive together. 

Maybe, Penelope realized as she watched them drive away, they’re carpooling to lower their greenhouse gas emissions and shrink their carbon footprints. She smiled at the thought, electing to add the fact that Luke cares about the environment to her list titled “Reasons Newbie has Evaded my Hit List for now” she would never actually do anything to Luke, their playful banter just that at this point- not serious and born out of friendship more than anger, but she still liked to keep him in check every now and then by bringing out the list in his presence, sometimes crossing things off right as he looks over if she was feeling sneaky. 

She got in her own car and began her drive home, her curiosity sated by her own assumptions and conclusions drawn from minimal evidence, and her mind wandered to what she would make for dinner, or what she thought about the playlist Derek sent her titled ‘Things to Listen to When Things are Getting a Bit Too Soupy’, the music all cheerful pop recommendations. 

Garcia, complacent in her environmental assumption for Luke and Spencer’s behavior, neglected to do any actual researching, where she would have found that the distance between their two apartments is much greater than the distance of each place to the BAU combined, making it more environmentally conscious for each of them to drive on their own instead of making more trips than they have to. 

That, of course, is also working off the assumption that Luke still lives in his apartment, and hasn’t moved into Spencer’s in taking another step in their serious and committed relationship. Both of these assumptions would be incorrect. 

**v.**

Everyone was exhausted, new evidence having been piling in well into the night due to the unpredictable nature of serial bombers. Their unsub was also devolving rapidly, a dangerous behavior under normal circumstances, but even more deadly when combined with explosives. 

They had caught her finally, their profile never fitting exactly until someone made the connection between the unsub and a local woman and they all realized their unsub was a woman and not a man, like most serial bombers. Despite having been called behavioral science in the past, JJ knew profiling was more of an art than something you could apply equations to. 

They were on the jet now, almost everyone asleep or quietly doing their own tasks, the normal conversation found after a case gone in the face of sleep deprivation and hearts heavy because of victims they were unable to save. JJ had just finished a chapter in a book she was reading for the bookclub she occasionally participated in when not busy with a case, and looked around the dark plane, quietly observing her colleagues and friends. 

Matt, Tara, and Rossi were all asleep on the chairs besides Prentiss, who was already working on the file for the case. She gave her a small, tired smile and went back to work. She looked towards the couches towards the back of the jet, eyes widening at the sight before her. 

Spencer was laying on the couch, his back elevated by the armrest he was leaning on, a book in one hand, and the other- 

His other hand was slowly and gently running through Alvez’s hair, the shorter man asleep on top of Spencer. They were lying chest to chest, Luke just slightly farther down the couch so the top of his head rested on Spencer’s collarbone, his arms wrapped comfortably around his waist. 

Spencer would occasionally lift his hand out of Alvez’s hair to flip a page on his book- at a pace _much_ slower than JJ knew he needed- and when the hand left his head Luke’s sleeping face would scrunch up in displeasure, only evening out when Spencer’s hand would return to carding through his hair. 

JJ watched, entranced, at the scene, her mind scrambling at the influx of new information about her friends- she’d had no idea Spencer and Alvez were such close friends! 

She thought back to the way Spencer was with other people, past teammates that he had been friends with, and how they acted towards him. No matter the type of person- Morgan and Blake being so so different but so similar towards Reid- one couldn’t help themselves but look at Spencer and see a little kid way out of his depth. He would prove himself time and time again, and no one would doubt his abilities or qualifications, but people, herself included, always saw Spencer as someone needing protection. 

JJ observed how Spencer’s arm with the hand holding his book was wrapped almost protectively around Alvez, and smiled. Taking care of someone else looked good on him. 

**+i.**

“Hey, Garcia,” Luke said as he and Spencer walked into the conference room, the air still casual, as Prentiss hadn’t shown up yet. “I have a favor to ask you,”

She narrowed her eyes at him, her eyebrows furrowing, but not able to conceal the teasing glimmer in her smile. “Whatever it is, Newbie, I’ll make it so awesomely so you can’t complain about the one aspect of it I deliberately ruined, and you’ll have to live with 90% of my effort instead of 100%,”

He smiled and laughed, but moved on instead of continuing with the bit, indicating it was serious. She straightened up, looking at him expectantly. 

“Well,” he said, purposefully lifting his left hand to scratch at his chin, smirking at the surprised gasps he received at the sight of his new ring. He continued talking, making no room for interruptions. “I know you’re pretty experienced in graphic design, and we want something original for the invitations, you know? I was hoping you could help us with that,” he said, smiling cheekily. 

After a few moments of stunned silence, she broke, running forward to grab his hand and study the ring. “You got _engaged?!?_ Oh my god!” 

“You didn’t propose?” Matt asked, thinking back to his own engagement and how every guy in his life told him he had to be the one to pop the question. Luke looked at him oddly for a moment, before smiling and nodding, shrugging a bit. 

“Well we both knew it was going to happen, we had talked about it a lot, and Spence here-” he nudged his fiancé as he spoke, before looking over at Penelope when she interrupted them. 

“Whoa whoa whoa!” she shouted, dropping his hand. She turned to Spencer, a suspicious look on her face. “You were there too? Why was Spencer there?” 

Luke snorted, confused and a bit hurt while Spencer’s eyes widened and he looked around the room, his eyes taking on a clinical glare as he gathered evidence. “Why… why wouldn’t he be?” 

Everyone made to respond, but right then the door opened, and Prentiss walked in. Usually her presence would demand silence from her team, or at least more focus on the case than on whatever they had been discussing before, but they all unanimously decided this was a special occasion and deserved a bit more conversation dedicated to it. 

Penelope, flustered, tried to elaborate. “Why wouldn’t he- if you’re inviting him to your engagement you might as well have invited the rest of us- why does he know your fiancée and we don’t even know her name-” at these words, Spencer grabbed Luke’s hand and all but dragged him out of the room. The team was left in baffled silence, interrupted only by Emily’s deep laughter. 

Outside, standing huddled together in the empty hallway, Spencer looked Luke directly in the eyes. “They didn’t know we’re together,” 

“They assumed I was straight and getting married to a woman- also Matt has some very old fashioned ideas,” 

Spencer nodded, his eyes narrowed as he considered what to do. “Obviously we need to tell them,”

“Do the best profilers in the country need to be told about two of them being in love?” Luke asked, and Spencer smiled at the last bit and shrugged. 

“Evidently they do,” 

Inside the room, the team was slowly realizing what they had all missed. JJ thought back to the night she saw Spencer and Alvez snuggled up together, and it hit her like a smack to the face, that due to her repeated insistence that ‘male friendships can be intimate without being romantic,’ while inherently true, also means you can’t ignore such blatant and obvious signs of a relationship. 

Penelope finally pulled out her phone and decided to look into the personal files of her colleagues, discovering, to her utmost surprise, that Luke Alvez had filed his home address transference nearly a year ago, and had been living at, what she now realized was _not_ coincidentally, at the same place Spencer was. 

Tara remembered the night in the hot tub and how she had entirely ignored their body language in favor of feeling the warmth of the water, and how they had literally been holding hands and mere inches apart from each other, which she now realized isn’t standard friendly hot tub behavior. 

Rossi decided to finally use Google Translate to determine the meaning of cariño, the name Luke had called Spencer in the car. He had assumed it meant ‘buddy’ or ‘pal’ and was now unsurprised by his phone informing him it was a loving spanish pet name. 

Matt looked at his own biases and heteronormative ideals and reconsidered the diversity of the people he hung out with. And thought back to the night he saw Alvez with Reid and considered digging deeper into the interpersonal behaviors of people on the spectrum, because boy was he uninformed. 

Emily just laughed at the ever sinking realization that she had composed a team of people that were now revealing themselves to be some of the most oblivious people on the planet. She told herself she'd congratulate them in private, after all of the hilarious commotion has passed.

Luke and Spencer walked back into the room. Everyone went silent, as every pair of eyes tracked their conjoined hands. 

“Just to be clear,” Spencer announced, supremely unimpressed with his friends. “we’ve been dating for months,”

“And we’re also engaged!” Luke said happily. “and for every month you’ve ignored every sign of our relationship, I’m adding 5 bucks to the minimum gift value for you in the registry,”

Spencer turned to look at him. “Aww, come on babe,” he said, before looking out at his blushing teammates. “Make it 10,”

**Author's Note:**

> the bit about the sugarplum macchiato was a desperate cry for help. i will pretend to hate the concept while also wishing i could try it. someone in the comments describe it to me. let me live vicariously through you and your coffee habits.


End file.
